


Let Me Look After You

by HMS_Chill



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: He's a disaster, Hurt/Comfort, I see your 'Monty whines when he's sick' and raise you 'Monty is terrified of worrying anyone', Idiots in Love, M/M, Sickfic, aka he hides his sickness as long as humanly possible, like apparently everything i write these days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 02:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMS_Chill/pseuds/HMS_Chill
Summary: Monty's body starts exhibiting flu symptoms, but he was never any good at picking up signals.





	Let Me Look After You

**Author's Note:**

> A historical note: the work week in the early 1700s was Tuesday-Friday night or Saturday morning. Then Sunday was for church and Monday was for fun. This declined over the course of the long 18th century, but we're in 1727, which is still pretty early, so Monday could be a day off. (source: a class I took last semester)

London winters are a pain in the ass. It's not that they're exceptionally colder than winters in Cheshire. They certainly feel colder, though Percy says that's more due to the quality of our lodgings than the actual weather outside. The walls of my father's house kept out the chill better than our little run-down flat. But beyond the weather, what makes London winters so awful is the wetness. London is always wet, and it always has been, but in winter it becomes nearly unbearable. Walking through puddles while carriages churn up mud and sedan chairs nearly plow you over is a hassle any time of year, but in winter, the streets fill with freezing sludge and are dark by four PM. It is very nearly the worst thing I can imagine, especially when I am coming home late at night.

Percy remains a source of comfort, even in the face of the brutal winter. He is usually in bed by the time I return from Covenant Gardens, but that simply means that I get to climb into a warm bed and cuddle up next to him. I try to be quiet every night, but I would be lying if I said I don't enjoy it when he wakes up and pulls me close to ask about my night. He is always still half asleep, and he doesn't usually remember our midnight conversations, but it doesn't matter. When he falls back to sleep halfway through my recounting, I am held close to his chest, fully believing that I am loved and feeling warmed from the inside out.

No matter how much I pretend not to be bothered by it, though, the cold is not exactly doing wonders for my health, especially combined with the way we've been trying to save food. It goes on for a while before I notice, mostly because I'm so worried about Percy. He's lost weight since Santorini, which wouldn't be too worrying on its own, but as he loses weight he gets tired more easily, and that makes me worry that he'll have more fits. The only way to fix things seems to be working more hours in order to make more money for food and whatever medical solutions Felicity sends us. I offer to start working Mondays or Saints' Days, because there are fewer people playing for the house those days while more people come in to spend money and forget that they have to return to work the next day. Mondays are especially lucrative, and by early January, I'm spending most of every Monday night well into Tuesday morning working. Half-asleep Percy tells me I should work less when I come back from these shifts, but fully awake Percy never seems to remember it, so I consider myself alright. 

-

I start to notice things going wrong on a Wednesday. I'm tired all day, but I don't think much of that. I'm usually tired; it's just a result of the hours I've been working. I don't mind, because Percy doesn't look quite so thin anymore, and we've managed to keep up on rent and even save a bit toward the latest treatment Felicity wrote about to help with his fits. What tips me off to the fact that I may be getting ill is not the exhaustion but the fact that I am coughing nearly the entire journey home. I refuse to let myself be worried. It doesn't matter that I am bone tired or coughing, not when I can fall into bed next to Percy and know that he's alright. He wakes up a bit as I come in, but I'm too far asleep to respond when he asks about my night. The last thing I feel before I fall asleep is him pulling me closer and pressing a kiss to one of my scars. 

-

Thursday starts with a headache. Percy is gone by the time I wake up, but that is not unusual. I sleep late when I can, in an attempt to make up for working late, and he often has to play luncheons in parts of town that require a rather long trip. He's left coffee on the stove for me. I'm not sure how long he'll be out, but if I remember correctly, we get to spend a bit of the afternoon together. He even said he'd bring a few biscuits if he could, which would be a wonderful treat. A letter from Felicity sits on the table, so I read it while I drink my coffee and eat a piece of bread from the loaf Percy bought for dinner last night. She's not had much luck with finding a medical college, but she's working for a bakery on Cowgate. I don't know much about Edinburgh, but Percy got us a book that said Cowgate was a major street. Not the biggest, but still a central place with good foot traffic not far from the universities she's applying to. She doesn't seem thrilled with it, but it pays the bills and seems decent enough. I wonder idly what Felicity would say I should do about the sore throat I seem to have picked up as I do a bit of tidying around the flat, trying to decide on a balance between keeping myself warm and saving fuel for our little stove. 

When Percy comes home, I'm in bed. The headache I woke up with has persisted, driving me into a nap, though I wake up when the door opens. Percy sees me in bed and frowns a bit, but I am up to greet him with a kiss that erases it before he's fully taken off his coat. My headache has receded a bit, and even if it hadn't, I would do anything to keep that frown off his face. 

"Hello, Darling. How was the quartet?"

"It went well, but how are you? You were in bed a moment ago; everything alright?"

"Fine, just a bit of a headache is all. It's gone now." A lie, but it's not the first time I've lied to Percy about my health, and I doubt it will be the last. It's simply not worth worrying him, and I know he would worry. This headache isn't bad, but telling him would darken what little time we actually have to spend together. It feels like it's been ages since we were able to relax together, and I don't want him to spend what is supposed to be a happy afternoon worried.

At work, I can use my cough to seem more pathetic and encourage people to play against me. I try to see the fact that I can't seem to stop coughing as a blessing rather than a curse, which is easy enough at work, but difficult on the way home and even harder when I try to change and climb into bed without waking Percy. I think I've managed it until I feel him pull me closer and kiss my bad side. He murmurs a 'goodnight' into my good ear as I drift off. 

-

By Friday, I'm sore, but I attribute that to our bed. It is anything but soft, and I would not be surprised to find bed bugs in it. When I collapse into that bed early Saturday morning, it is with the knowledge that I am close to being able to rest. Saturday nights at the casino rarely run late, and the tables close on Sunday to honor the sabbath. I only have to make it through one more night before I can allow myself to feel the tiredness that I've been ignoring for the past three days. I'm not even sure if I manage to wake Percy that night; I'm asleep before I've even properly lain down. 

-

Saturday morning (or afternoon rather), I wake up with a pounding headache, feeling warm. I force myself out of bed and get a cup of coffee from the pot Percy's left me. It's gone cold. I'm not hungry, and if the nausea that seems to have settled in my stomach is any indication I won't be able to keep anything down as it is, so I forego breakfast. For a few minutes, staring at the room-temperature coffee in front of me, I contemplate not going to work. A dealer yesterday told me I looked ill; I'm sure he could tell the owners of the club where I am. But then I deposit last night's earnings in the box we're using to save, and I can tell how close we are. We are so, _so_ close to getting enough money for something to help Percy have fewer fits, and if my going to work for one more easy night can make that happen, I am more than willing to go to work.

At the casino, the coughing and flushed face make me look pathetic. They make me look distracted and more likely to lose, so people are more willing to welcome me to their tables, all sly nudges and sideways looks as they expect to take my money easily. By the time the casino closes, I've done well, and that knowledge is enough to keep me upright until I can collapse into bed with Percy, more exhausted than I can ever remember being.

-

I'm still exhausted when I wake up, and for a second, I can't imagine why I'm awake. I reach out for Percy, hoping to cuddle closer to him before I fall back to sleep for the next few years. I find an arm that is completely flexed, and I sit up just in time to watch the convulsions start. Any thoughts of my own exhaustion or illness vanish as I hold his hand and stroke his hair, keeping him on his side and trying not to cry. 

"It's alright, darling. You'll be alright," I tell him, though I know he can't hear me. I'm talking more for my own benefit anyway, because my voice drowns out the awful sounds of him thrashing and his teeth grinding together. "Everything will be alright, and we'll find a way to make these fits better. We'll help you get better so you don't have them anymore, or as much, at least. We'll find something. I promise."

When the fit fades, as they always do, I pull him close. It will be a bit before he can tell, it always takes what feels like years before he comes back to me, but I want him to come back knowing that I haven't left. I want him to come back and know right away that I love him and am going to look after him. After what feels like an eon, I hear a slight sniffling and feel his face bury itself in my shoulder.

"It's alright, darling, I'm here. We'll figure this out together, I promise. I love you, and I'll help you and look after you until you feel well again. I'm here," I tell him, rubbing his back gently. He sniffles again.

"It's... it's been so long. I thought maybe... it was stupid, but I thought maybe something I'd done had made it so I wouldn't get them anymore. Something the doctors didn't know to try because it wasn't expensive; I thought..."

"Shh, it's alright, Perce. I don't think it's stupid to hope for them to go away, even if it doesn't seem like they will. Felicity mentioned something new in her letter, and we can try that soon. We should have enough saved up, and I can pick it up Monday or Tuesday before I go to work. No matter what happens, though, if we fix them or you have fits for the rest of your life, I love you and I'm going to help you. I promise."

He falls back to sleep in my arms, and I'm too tired to stay awake and look after him like I want to. I'm asleep in moments, and when I wake up in the morning he's already awake, stroking my hair gently. For a moment, I cuddle up to him and just let myself be held, his stroking hand easing away the pounding in my head. Then I remember what happened, and that I should be taking care of him instead of the other way around. I pull back and open my eyes, and he's there, right beside me, smiling just a bit. He is stunning in the morning light, an angel lying tangled in my bed sheets. For a moment, as our eyes meet and he smiles at me, I forget to breathe.

"How are you feeling?" I ask once I've recovered a bit. I don't think I will ever fully recover from the way that Percy makes me feel, but I am recovered enough to be breathing again, which is an important development.

"Good morning, love. I'm alright. I mean, I feel ill, but no worse than other times. I didn't fall or hit anything to get hurt, so it... it could have been worse. And you stayed with me, you didn't run out screaming, so it could have been much worse."

I smile at him, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear before I ask, "Are you hungry? We have some bread, I believe, and I'm getting better at making coffee."

"A bit of bread would be nice, but I'm not ready to let you go quite yet."

That has me smiling again, cuddling closer to him until his stomach rumbles. He seems half asleep, so I kiss his cheek and slip out of bed to make coffee. My headache is back as soon as I stand up, and just for a second, my vision goes dark. If I was warm last night, I'm definitely hot now, but I don't have time to worry about that. Percy is ill, and I am going to look after him. I promised him and Felicity both that I would take good care of him, and I mean to. I've done wrong by Percy for years, but I am going to make it right, or at least as right as I can. Without all of the added factors, I would still care for him out of sheer love, but knowing that Felicity will grind me to a pulp if I don't look after him to her standard is an extra motivator. 

When my vision goes back to normal, I maneuver around the screen to put some coffee on and cut a slice of bread for his breakfast. He would tell me I've given him a slice that's too big, but I know how these fits tire him out. Neither of us have been eating particularly well; he'll need something to get his strength back after a fit like this one. Besides, my stomach has been questionable all day. It's too fussy for me to eat more than a few bites of breakfast, so I add the excess of my portion to his and try not to worry about whether or not we'll have enough food to make it until one of us can get out to buy more. When the coffee is ready, I make my way back to the bed, sitting down and rubbing his back until he opens his eyes. 

"Morning, darling. Do you feel well enough to get up for breakfast, or should I bring it in to you?"

He groans in response, but he rolls over and begins the process of getting up all the same. 

"I can bring it in if you'd like," I offer, hating the stiffness in his movements and the pain on his face. "Breakfast in bed."

"For us and the bugs it will attract. Thank you, Monty, but I can get up. I'll... if I move a bit, even just a little, it won't be as bad for as long. So it'll hurt now, but it's better in the long run if I come out for breakfast." 

I watch as he gets up slowly, and together, we make our way to the other room, settling at the table with cups of coffee. He looks tired, and he's moving stiffly. I tell him I've already eaten, and he tells me I cut his slice of bread too big. My headache recedes a bit, and the world begins to feel a bit less fuzzy by the time my coffee's gone. I have a coughing fit that leaves Percy looking worried, but aside from that and the fact that it is obvious Percy is recovering from something, it is a wonderfully domestic breakfast. When we've both finished, I coax him back to bed, then clean up a bit and join him. He's already starting to doze, but he pulls me close and mumbles, "You're warm" as he drifts off. 

I wait until he's fully asleep to slip out of bed and put my winter layers on. There's a medicine Felicity said might help him feel better after a fit, and while I may be hard pressed to find an apothecary open on a Sunday, it has to be worth a try. We've finally saved enough that I can help him; I'm not going to be thwarted by any day of the week, even if it is the Lord's.

If I thought it was cold inside, where our little stove is doing its very best to keep it warm and I could curl up under blankets, I was completely wrong. Outside, it is absolutely Baltic. The wind manages to slip through every little gap between my scarf and my coat, finding the holes in the hat Percy knit me for Christmas and chilling me to my bones in a matter of minutes. It doesn't matter. Percy is ill, and I need to find something to help him feel, if not well again, at least less ill. I pull the scarf tighter around my neck, stifle a coughing fit, and keep going. 

I manage to find an apothecary who keeps his shop open on Sunday, and the warmth of the interior is almost as much of a relief as finding the shop was in the first place. The man behind the counter looks up as I come in, frowning slightly as I unwrap my scarf and pull off a glove to fish in my pocket for the scrap of paper with the name of the medicine Felicity recommended scrawled on it. 

"Do you have this?" The hand that holds the paper out is trembling slightly, though I'm not sure if that's cold or something related to the weakness I've felt for the past few days. He takes the paper and adjusts his glasses, studies it for a few moments, then hands it back. 

"Never heard of it. What's it do?"

"It's supposed to help with epilepsy. Er, falling sickness? My friend had a fit this morning and I'm looking for something to help him feel better." I describe what Percy's feeling as best I can, and he rummages around a bit before producing a salve.

"This will help with stiffness. It may not stop the fits, but it will ease the time after them."

He names a price, and I offer a lower one. We haggle, and eventually I confess that I can't pay what he's asking and also buy all of the things we need to live in the small modicum of comfort we have. The confession is interrupted by a coughing fit, and one or the other is enough to make him go quiet. When I've recovered from my fit and looked up again, ready to argue more, he's looking at me thoughtfully.

"I'll take your price, on one condition. I'll add some tea to soothe that cough, and I want you to drink it, then spend some time resting. I know your type; always setting yourselves on fire to keep others warm. You'll let yourself die of consumption before you allow your friend even a single cough. The friend you've come in to help needs people like you; the whole world needs people like you in it. Take care of yourself."

For a second I'm sure I've misheard him, but then he turns to get the tea and I'm hurrying to get money out and pay him. I thank him at least three times on my way out, then hurry home to find Percy just starting to wake up. I strip off my winter layers, leave the medicine on the table, and climb into bed next to him. I want to be able to give him the comfort of not waking up alone, though the fact that it is warm in bed is an added blessing. I'm shivering in our front room. Percy moves closer to me, then pulls away and opens his eyes.

"You're cold. You were warm and that was nice but now you're cold. Where... did you go somewhere?"

"Shh, it's alright, don't worry. I just stepped out for a minute. I went to an apothecary, and he gave me something to help you feel better. It's not what Felicity recommended, but he said it would help you not be so stiff."

"Monty--"

"Don't worry about the money; I'll earn it back tomorrow, and--" I'm interrupted by a coughing fit I can't quite manage to hide. Percy pulls me close, rubbing my back until it subsides. 

"I'm not worried about the money. I'm worried about you. It's cold out, and you're getting sick. You're staying out late every night working, and you're not eating enough, no matter how much you say you are. I can tell; you're not as sneaky as you think."

"Don't worry about me." My voice is a bit rough, but I push past that. "I'm alright, and he gave me some tea that's meant to help for free. I'm fine."

"You'll eat a full meal for supper, won't you? A proper meal?" He asks, reaching up to gently tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. I nod. I haven't felt too nauseous since the morning; I should be able to eat supper without throwing up. Once I've nodded, he pulls me closer, fussing over the fact that I'm still a bit chilled from my trip and generally trying to look after me as best he can. He's still feeling a bit stiff, I can tell, but he seems well enough. This wasn't a particularly bad fit, but that doesn't mean I won't worry about him.

When I've warmed up a bit, I convince Percy to let me up to fix us another meal. Given the time of day, this will likely be our supper; we've slept through either breakfast or lunch. I try to think of it in terms of food saved rather than the fact that Percy's missed a meal after a fit, which can't be healthy. Part way through my preparation, he makes his way to sit at the table and join me. He's still moving stiffly; I can't tell if he's doing any better or not. I turn away to focus on the food, and when I turn back he's looking through the bag I left on the table and taking out the balm. 

"The apothecary said you should rub it over where you feel stiff, and it will help. It won't stop the fits, but it... it could make the time after a bit easier, and it looked like it would last, and I... I wanted to get something. So I could help somehow."

"Thank you; I'll try some now. And is this your tea?"

"It is. It's meant to help with my throat and cough; I'll brew some with dinner. Would you like a cup? It could help make sure you don't catch a cough like mine."

He shakes his head, so I make a cup of regular tea for him as well as a cup of the soothing one for myself. When I come join him at the table not long later, bringing bread and cheese and tea, he makes sure I take what he considers a decent portion before he takes his food. I can tell he's worried, so I smile as I start to eat, trying my best to reassure him that everything is fine.

The minute the bread hits my stomach, my nausea is back full force. I'm going to say something, maybe claim that I'm full or that I'd rather not eat any more right now, but when I look up, Percy is worried. He's watching me, and he's trying to hide it, but there is concern written all over his face. If I tell him that I don't feel well, or that I don't want to eat or anything out of the ordinary, he'll worry more. I can't do that to him, so I eat more and simply hope I will stop feeling sick. It doesn't work, but it was worth a try.

By the end of supper, Percy is nodding off again, so I send him to bed while I clean up. Aside from making sure that he's resting and taking care of himself, it gives me a chance to be sick in the chamber pot without alerting him. I've been trying to hold it back since the end of supper, but when another wave of nausea comes a few minutes after he's fallen asleep, I get the pot and deposit my partially-digested dinner into it. Emptying it is a nightly chore, so he will never see where my dinner ended up or the way I leant against our building when another wave hit, retching into the sewer. He has no reason at all to suspect the way my legs shake as I climb the stairs again or the way my head pounds. 

I rinse the taste of bile out of my mouth with the leftover bits of healing tea, then get ready for bed and climb in next to him. My whole body seems to be shaking, and when I hold out my hand, there is a slight tremor to it. I'm warmer than seems right, and I desperately need to sleep. I have to be better by tomorrow night. Monday nights are the most profitable; people come to spend a week's worth of pocket money and forget they have to go back to work the next day. My last thought before I fall asleep is that I have to be there to capitalize on their recklessness, of Percy will have to wait longer for a medicine that will help him.

-

Monday morning is the worst yet. I wake to Percy in bed with me, a Monday blessing, but the headache and coughing fit that come with that blessing make it impossible to enjoy. He pulls me closer and rubs my back until the coughing subsides, then pulls me even closer and tucks me under his chin. 

"Morning, darling. I was going to ask how you're feeling, but I think I've gotten my answer."

I grumble a bit, and he kisses the top of my head. "You're not going to work tonight."

That is enough to make me pull away enough that I can look at him properly. "Of course I am. Monday is the busiest night of the week; I--" I'm cut off by another round of coughing, but I manage, "I have to go."

"No, you don't, and you're not going to. We'll manage if you miss a day or two of work, Monty."

"But the medicine. We're close, and then your fits might not be as bad. If I'd worked more earlier, you might not have had the one yesterday. And then there's rent coming up, and we need food... We need money."

"Not as much as I need you healthy."

"You can't.. Perce, I'm not going to help you by being healthy. Me not coughing won't make your fits go away. I can't stop them myself, and I can't do research to find a way to stop them, but I can make money to help. That's all I can do; just let me do it. Please?"

He pulls me closer, and I let him. A moment later, he says, "That's not all you do. You stay with me and look after me and love me. That... that helps more than you know, Monty. I don't know anyone else who would be willing to help me through a fit, then care for me as well as you do afterward. And before you say Felicity, she would try, but the moment it subsided she would be trying to find a solution. I love your sister, you know that, but she's not the person I want to talk to after a fit. When I'm coming back, I don't want someone to try and fix me or make them stop. I just want someone to hold me and be here. So you... you don't need to do research or find anything. For now, you are a solution. You are everything I ever dreamed someone would be after a fit. That's all I ever need you to be, alright, darling?"

He isn't going to change his mind, so I nod and cuddle up next to him. I feel his hand on my forehead, then hear the worry in his voice when he says, "You're burning up. Just rest today, please? We've a bit of dried meat that won't make a mess in bed, and I'll make you some of that healing tea, and you can just take a day to rest and get better. I'll look after you."

"Are you sure? Your fit was yesterday; are you still poorly?"

"I'm alright. That balm you bought helped well enough, and I imagine that a rather impressive number of cuddles will be involved in looking after you, and those I am never too ill to enjoy. Please, let me take care of you today?"

I want to say no. A month or two ago I would have, terrified that needing to care for me would be enough to send Percy packing. He'd see that I am useless and would leave for someone better suited for him. But I've learned, at least a bit. I've started to believe that he will love me even if he has to look after me. That isn't to say that I'm not worried as I nod; I'm scared about so many things. I'm worried that he'll be angry or upset. I'm worried that he'll make his own health worse trying to look after me. I'm worried about a lot of things, but if he spends the day looking after me, if I rest enough to function and he is tired enough to go to bed early, then I'll be able to slip out and go to work tonight. I'll be able to help him.

I let him look after me all day, drinking the tea and eating the food he brings me. When I feel the need to vomit, I send him on an errand to the neighbors so I can empty my stomach without him knowing. I can't empty the pot without alerting him, but sliding it under the bed will be enough to hide it. I'll empty it when I feel better; now I don't think I'm capable of getting it down the stairs and outside. I'm not sure I'm capable of much more than flopping back into bed and hoping for sleep to come and relieve the way my whole body aches. 

Sleep comes, eventually, and I doze most of the day. The few times I wake, I'm in Percy's arms, and he's reading aloud. Each time, his voice lulls me back to sleep. But when I wake up at twilight, his voice is quiet. I open my eyes to see him asleep beside me, and I know it's time. The knowledge that Percy may be upset with me is nearly enough to keep me here, but I know he'll understand. Either that or he won't wake until I'm back, and he may never know I've left in the first place.

I extract myself from his arms and sit up, allowing a moment for my body to adjust to being upright before I stand. My head pounds, and my vision begins to go fuzzy. My body, as it makes its way around the screen to the front room, seems a separate entity from my mind. I am aware that I am finding a jumper and dressing to go out, but I am disconnected from the act by the cotton that seems to have filled my head, making it lighter than air. When I hit my hand on the chest, I don't feel the pain. The world seems to tip a bit as I reach for the hat Percy knit me, and suddenly I am surrounded by inky blackness, waking up from what feels like the best sleep I've had in ages with something cold and hard pressed against my cheek.

My head hurts. My shoulder is pressed to the same cold surface as my cheek, pinning my arm to it as well. It almost feels nice. I seem to be waking from a deep sleep, and I'm not entirely sure I want to. My whole body is hot, but whatever surface I'm lying on feels nice. I open my eyes a tiny bit to see the floor of our flat. So I'm lying on the floor; that's not bad. Surely it wouldn't be too bad if I stayed here, on the nice, cool floor, to sleep for a bit. The mice might bother me, but it is easier to deal with them than it is to find the energy to get myself up and into bed, and bed will be hot where the floor is blissfully chilled. Percy says I should sleep more, and he won't notice if I stay here. He was already asleep. 

Just as I begin to believe I'll spend the night on the floor, a hand lands on my shoulder. It takes every ounce of what little willpower I have not to flinch, and I am rather proud of myself for it once my panic at being suddenly grabbed passes. Then a voice fights its way through the cotton filling my head.

"Monty? Monty, darling, look at me. Open your eyes, Monty, please, love, I... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry and I love you so much, Monty, please, just look at me? Show me you're alright, darling. Show me you're here, please, love." The voice is panicked. It's Percy's voice. Percy is crying. Percy wants me to open my eyes, so I do, despite the nearly overwhelming urge to sleep. I open my eyes to see him crouched next to me, and when he sees that I'm awake, he pulls me to his chest fast enough to make my head spin and lets out a choked sob.

"Perce? It's okay."

"No, Monty, it's not bloody okay. It's the furthest bloody thing from okay. I heard a crash and you were gone, and then I wasn't sure if you... if you were... I couldn't tell if you were breathing, and I was so scared. I can't do this without you, darling, I can't. So you... you've got to listen to me and look after yourself. You're burning up; you have to rest for a bit. Please. I'll go to your casino and tell them you're ill, or I'll play for them, or whatever I can do to convince you to rest, I'll do it. I don't need a solution, or a fix, or... or even food or anything else as much as I need you to be healthy."

I want to respond well. I want to promise him that I'll look after myself, or tell him I love him, or something. But my head is spinning, and my stomach is rolling, so instead, what comes out of my mouth is, "I'm going to throw up."

Percy grabs a bowl from somewhere and hands it to me, and I heave what little is left in my stomach into it. He holds my hair and rubs my back, then pulls me close when I've finished. I'm sweaty, and I feel like my whole body is ready to shake apart. I nearly cry. Maybe I do; my face is too pressed against Percy's shoulder for me to really tell. He might be crying a bit, too. I'm not entirely sure what's happening; the world is beginning to go a bit fuzzy again. But Percy's here. He’s holding me. So I'm safe, and he must be alright, too. As long as we're both here together, things are alright.

I wake up to Percy trying to maneuver us both back into bed, and I help as best I can, though I'm asleep again as soon as we lie down. After that, things are a bit of a blur. He brings me soup, and I worry about where he got it from. He tells me to stop thinking about how much things cost. I throw up, and he brings me tea. I sleep, and there's more soup when I wake up. I'm sleeping again when it's gone. At some point, he kisses my scars. He brushes my hair and leaves something blessedly cool on my forehead. My whole body is hot, then I'm shivering, then sleeping again. There's more soup and more tea, and then more sleep as Percy pulls me into a hug.

-

When I wake up with a clear head, it's morning. It is a morning that illuminates Percy as he sleeps beside me, his breathing even and the soft light making his already lovely freckles positively radiant. He is a beautiful man, and I can't believe I am lucky enough to spend my life with him. When he begins to stretch, waking up for the day, I can't resist the urge to lean up and kiss his cheek. His eyes fly open, and when they land on me, a smile blooms on his face.

"Happy Wednesday, darling. Are you feeling better?" he asks, running a hand through my hair. I nod. 

"Much. I think the worst is over; the fever seems to have broken. Thank you... thank you for looking after me."

"Of course, love. Of course. I would do anything for you; spending a day making soup and reading to you was easy. I love you."

"I love you. I'm sorry I scared you."

"Just... just don't do it again, alright? Promise me you'll look after yourself, or at least let me look after you?"

An image flashes in my mind of the way Percy looked when he found me on the floor. He was so scared, and he looked so helpless. He looked the way I felt in Marseilles, when he had his fit and I was taken by surprise. I never want him to feel that way again. I hadn't realized I had the power to make him feel that way, but apparently I do, though there seems a simple enough solution to ensure it never happens again.

"I promise." He pulls me close, pressing a kiss to my forehead, and the world feels better than it has in ages.

**Author's Note:**

> For a fic where Monty's so concerned about money, you'd think I would have actually looked into the money situation. I did, when I was writing an essay for a class in March. There are three divisions and they're in weird multiples and no one could translate them to modern currency so I gave up.  
> -  
> Thank you all so much for the comments on my last stuff! I never know how to respond and now I feel like it's been too long to respond to a lot without being awkward, but I read them and love them. I read some on my way to a job interview the other day as a confidence boost.  
> -  
> If you want to chat, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff and [Hschill5](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hschill5) for anything else! If you wanna leave a comment/kudos/whatever either here or over on tumblr, I'd love that! Cheers!


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